Found this one last thursday june 7 2012, couldn't help it.
Remember the day we first met
I made you ooh and ahh. You brought me home to meet your wife
and she felt just the same. At first you gave me loving care
kept me clean to a shine. We worked together long and hard
I gave you all I had. Then your son played at driving me
until he later did. But then my time became the past
here I was abandoned. So I sit unable to go
nature taking over.
Which way shall I take the course to my reader’s hearts,
What scale and tools do I collect with,
What voyeur’s wrap I claim in readiness.
Are the ages of my father come to bear,
Or will be for next generation’s benefit:
And for sure hope luck to smile a lot,
Unless I weaken in devotion,
That I harbor this pretext,
Where course is subject to a wanton age.
Gather, flock with us; examine all to beyond:
Valiant person have surpassed our time.
Reviewed by Sandy Hoynacki (Reader)
Reviewed on July 4, 2012
I wrote such a poem for an antique car my dad had. He had purchased it from the mother of a well-known Las Vegas man. I published it in my first book of poetry. This reminds me so much of that time and place shortly before his passing. Somewhat emotional reading for me..
Special memories never leave...
Vehicles, esp. pickup trucks are like old friends. Beautiful poem, Budd.
Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
Reviewed on June 12, 2012
This was a pleasure to read because of the 'care' element inside the lines. The deliverance was nicely placed, too; as the set up for the finale ("At first you gave me loving care) didn't lessen the crescendo of: "So I sit unable to go" That 'unable to go' line brought all the emotion of a 'stopped heart.' ~~ Diana
Arhh such is life... but at least it was loved for a while and this poem pays tribute to the old beauty...thank you for sharing this,I too would like to own such a car/truck...sad that someone can't retore it or rescue it.Well done Budd!
Love to you and yours
from
Kay
But never forgotten for all the beautiful memories, I wish we could keep them all Budd, for Abandoned and dead are surely kept alive in the memories.
I'm the sort of person who would have put the poor thing in the garage and given it care even if it could not be driven. For how can a soul not hold onto such a beautiful memory.
This one touches my heart. That looks like what we call a “field find.” would love to take that old body and restore it to classic condition or hot rod it.
Personification of memory's objects is a favorite genre of mine. Obviously for your as well. Consider, however, another look for what appears to be some typos. Nicely done, Budd.
Nice one Budd and it goes so well with the photo. Well done my friend, however you might check it for typo's. "But then my became the past..." My what? "So I sit unable yo go..." Think you may have intended "to" go.... Not that I want to nit-pick. Dick
I love it, last summer I came across two old fifties cars long abandoned and half submerged in a swamp. Almost as if they were driven there together and left to keep each other company until time eroded all trace of their history. You can't help but wonder at their memories.
fee
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
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Regis. 🍁
What scale and tools do I collect with,
What voyeur’s wrap I claim in readiness.
Are the ages of my father come to bear,
Or will be for next generation’s benefit:
And for sure hope luck to smile a lot,
Unless I weaken in devotion,
That I harbor this pretext,
Where course is subject to a wanton age.
Gather, flock with us; examine all to beyond:
Valiant person have surpassed our time.
Special memories never leave...
Sandy
has become nothing but landscape art,
but thanks to your sentiment we are
reminded of it's better days!!!!
Lady Vivian
Kimberly
Love to you and yours
from
Kay
I'm the sort of person who would have put the poor thing in the garage and given it care even if it could not be driven. For how can a soul not hold onto such a beautiful memory.
Lovely Budd
Love and Light
Lily
Ron
Donna
Anna
fee
Love ya!
Jane